Author: buffwithplants

Longer answer: Hot and fresh out the proverbial kitchen is a study in the journal Sportsthat compares muscle growth and performance between people supplementing with pea protein powder and people supplementing with whey. The conclusion:

If there’s one question all vegans get asked, it’s: “But where do you get your protein?” Concern trolling has soured the inquiry for a lot of vegans, largely because the biological requirements for protein are, in fact, much lower than many Americans believe. Vegans know this, so they can see through the veneer of concern in their coworker’s casual question. Kevin’s pretending to care about my health only because it’s an easy vehicle for him to pick apart my values or lifestyle. (Fat people experience this a lot, too—even more so than vegans.)

But it’s a valid question! And many would-be vegans have this curiosity.

In the first half of a roller derby scrimmage on Saturday, I was in the middle of a pile-up on the track. In the tussle, I messed up my MCL, or the ligament on the inside of my knee. If it’s torn, it’s only slightly. It’s Wednesday now, and it already feels 10,000 times better than it did on Saturday.

Of course, it probably wouldn’t have hurt that bad on Saturday if that pesky adrenaline hadn’t encouraged me to ignore it and play the second half at full-throttle. But I digress.

As much as I missed squatting yesterday, I knew skipping out on leg day was the only non-stupid thing to do. I want to give myself the opportunity to recover, and fast.

Still, two of my five gym days involve my fair use of my gams. With them out of commission, what was I supposed to do?

Today the United States bleeds. At a Senate hearing, Dr. Christine Blasey Ford let the entire country excavate the most traumatic event of her life. When she was 15, she told a panel of older men, a boy named Brett Kavanaugh sexually assaulted her, laughing and smothering her screams. The day had me and so many others feeling a raw and open wound that can never quite scab over.

I couldn’t eat much yesterday. I couldn’t move much. When I left the conference room after her testimony, I cried at my desk. I needed to eat, and I did. Bad coffee, a noodle bowl by Annie Chun’s. A mint chocolate Clif bar. When I felt empty again, a Raw Rev vegan bar, shiny with oil.

At home, I ate squash and red onions and corn on the cob and tempeh crumbles. I ate it with guacamole. My stomach swooped, like I had thought there was another step at the end of the staircase.

I drank a margarita: lime juice, tequila, triple sec, and agave. I drank it alone. I drank it with half the world.

Tonight I’m seeing my best friend. We’re both trying not to drink, and with my no-animal-products ~lifestyle~, eating out can be a bit of a let-down. Plus, it’s pricey, and I’ve got a new mortgage to pay.

We’re going skating instead. It costs $1.50 if you bring your own set of wheels. It’s active, productive (for me, anyway) and more fun then eating fries and a side salad for dinner.